


I'm sorry, my child

by S_Nebulosa



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alcohol, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but not as depressing as the tags suggest, kind of sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 10:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21408577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Nebulosa/pseuds/S_Nebulosa
Summary: Lena's trying to deal with finding out about Leviathan, about seeing the two people who hurt her most in her adult life - Andrea and Kara.She's all alone in her office, her home bringing up too many memories, when suddenly a stranger with a familiar face shows up.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	I'm sorry, my child

Her office is dark aside from the desk light. It’s late. Lena knows it’s not a time she should be at the office but she is nonetheless.

She can’t be home. She’s got work to do.

Today Hope told her everything Eve knows about Leviathan.

Today she’s seen the two people who hurt her most — Andrea and Kara.

Today she’s already seen the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. Alone.

It’s not like she’s going to be able to sleep anyway. Not that she would have if none of this happened. She hasn’t slept properly in months. But at least some nights she tries.

Lena leans forward and rests her chin on her hands. Even her office has too many reminders to focus. She wants to work on a new invention, on figuring out Leviathan, on dumb financial spreadsheets. Whatever.

So long as she doesn’t have to think of _them_.

Seems like her mind has other ideas.

The empty whiskey bottle reminds her of Andrea. Of the first time they got drunk together. Of their late night talks. Of whispered confessions. Of feeling wanted and liked and loved for once in her life. Not judged for being not good enough.

The couch reminds her of Kara. Of takeout lunches. Of hugs and emotional support. Of having a friend when she really needed one but wouldn’t dare admit it to herself. Of no longer feeling lonely in a sea of people.

Damnit. Why can’t she just stop making herself feel sad?

Lena closes her eyes.

She’s reminded somehow of Eve and how she was betrayed.

Not helping.

She opens her eyes again.

A soft knock on her office door startles her out of her inner turmoil.

She’s supposed to be the only one in the building this time of night. She — and maybe security, who know not to disturb her when she’s in this late.

The door opens. Slowly.

An older woman appears. Around 60, Lena would guess. Just a few years younger than Lillian. She has hair that’s showing signs of greying. A nice skirt. Fancy blouse. A familiar face somehow.

Lena can’t place it. Her face. It’s like she knows it but she knows she hasn’t seen it before.

It’s- it is _her_ face. The woman has Lena’s face.

Only her jaw is slightly softer, rounder. Her eyes are sharper. Ears a tad bigger.

Her mouth is the same. Her nose, her cheekbones. Even her eye colour.

“Hello, Lena,” the woman says.

Her voice.

Her voice reminds Lena of old stories. Of the medallion she now possesses. Of fairy tales. Of learning to read and write. Of board games she doesn’t remember playing. Of playing in the grass and going swimming and playing tag in the woods.

“No,” Lena mutters. “No, you’re not real. I’m drunk. You’re not real.”

“Oh, a leanbh. I am very much real.”

Why does that strange word sound so familiar? Why does it feel like a term of endearment? Why is this happening to her?

She should drink more. Or shouldn’t have drunk so much. Probably the latter but maybe the former can fix that. Alcohol has been the answer to her questions for a long time.

“I’m sorry I left you, a leanbh. I’m sorry for all the hurt I caused you. I wish I could take it back.”

“Stop talking. You’re not real. You’re a figment of my imagination. You look weird.” Lena sticks to her initial plan and takes another long drink of whiskey.

“I am very much not, ghrá. I’m here to warn you.”

Again with the strange language that somehow sounds like Lena knows it. Sounds like she’s being praised. Like she’s loved.

“Don’t get involved with Leviathan. It’s a hole with no exit. Please stay away from them and keep yourself safe.”

Leviathan. Now that’s a term Lena’s heard before. Not that she will listen to this stranger. She’s determined to figure out everything about them and no one can stop her.

“Please, a leanbh. I know it’s tempting but please listen.” The woman steps closer as she looks at Lena. Takes her in entirely.

Lena feels naked. Like all her secrets and feelings are out on the table and there’s no hiding them.

One of the woman’s hands lifts and brushes Lena’s cheek.

Lena almost leans into the touch but she can catch herself right on time.

This is a stranger. A stranger who broke into her office at 5 am. A stranger who is trying to keep her from doing the thing she wants most right now. Aside from resolving everything with Kara so she can stop hurting.

“Please, a leanbh. A ghrá. Don’t go down a path you can’t return from.”

Lena’s frozen. It’s as if someone put a spell on her. Something that might as well have happened knowing magic actually exists. But deep down, Lena knows this is no magic. This is something inside herself, keeping her locked in her chair, keeping her mouth shut.

Before Lena has a chance to ask questions, to demand an explanation, the woman is leaving again.

Gone.

Lena’s alone in her office again. Tears burning her eyes because she thinks she knows who that was and she would kill for a moment longer. For a little more affection. For her questions to be answered.

For a hug.

For some love.

For her mom.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](https://s-nebul0sa.tumblr.com) to cry with me about Lena's hurt


End file.
